When We All Lost It
by ncis.is.the.best
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. He wasn't supposed to get shot. She wasn't supposed to be affected so dramatically. Can they pick up the pieces? A story in eight parts. TIVA.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: My dog ate it.

Um, yes. So this is a new story-ma-jig. It will be different to my usual stories. This will be in eight parts. All have been written already so I shall upload one every day or two days if you wish for me to continue.

So let me know your views and fave lines. And I'm open to criticism, so drop me a line.

And, in a little bit of shameless self promotion- check out my other fic, Learning Under Pressure, and let me know what you think.

Enjoy.

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It is dark. It is cold. Frost clings to the hem of her gown as she runs. Her breathing comes in ragged gasps. Her footsteps pound on the dirty, sludgy remains of melted snow.

She can hear him calling her back. Just an echo, a thought, caught in the wind, dragged to her ears.

_Stop. Stop. _

Run. Gasp. Fall.

She hears her dress rip as she falls to her knees.

Push. Get back up.

Scrabbling to her hands and feet, she pushes away again, her blood pounding in her ears. Tears fall but she doesn't acknowledge them. She tells herself it is just the wind whipping at her face, the cold air stinging her eyes. Because no. She isn't crying. She never does.

_Please, stop! Let's just talk about..._

His words are stolen away by the beep of a car horn.

The beep of a car horn.

Intended for warning.

The lights flash in her eyes then. Instinctively, her hands go up to shield her vision.

_Oh my god! _

A massive weight impacts with her side and she is thrown, sprawling, to the side of the road.

"Oh my god, Ziva. Are you okay?" Breathless.

It takes a moment to register that it wasn't the car that had hit her, but the very reason she's even there in the first place.

She looks up at him through her lashes. "Why are you on top of me?" she grinds out through gritted teeth.

He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off her, stretching out his hand. She takes it.

"I guess it was too much to expect a thank you."

"You pushed me into a ditch." She is brushing dirt off her dress.

"That was to get you out of the way of the car that was about to smash you into teeny tiny pieces," he points out dryly.

She looks up at him, indignant. "I was handling it, Tony."

"Yeah. Right," he says, grabbing her arm. "Come on."

She doesn't move. "Let go of me. Right. Now," she says in a low voice.

He drops her arm. "Right. I forgot. You were trying to outrun me."

"Trying?" She raises an eyebrow. "I would have if not for that stupid car."

"Puh-lease," he says, grabbing her hand this time and dragging her back the way they'd come. "And don't worry, you no longer have to pretend to despise me."

"Pretend?" she quips, but doesn't pull her hand from his grip.

"Ha ha," he says sarcastically. "Anyway, as I was saying, Gibbs radioed to say he's apprehended the Wilsons. We're good to go back."

"Finally..." she mutters, relieved, and begins walking beside him.

Neither comments that he hasn't yet dropped her hand.

He looks down at her. "You crying?"

She stares straight ahead, resisting the urge to wipe her eyes with the back of her free hand. Without missing a beat, she says, "I'm an excellent actress."

A smile tugs at his lips, and in the moonlight she thinks he looks almost predatory. "Oh yes," he says. "I know."

She rolls her eyes then, her mind unwillingly flicking back to their steamy undercover rendezvous as married assassins. She knows his mind is travelling along the same track. She considers teasing him, but finds herself too tired to think up a witty enough remark. Instead, she says, "Get it out of your head, DiNozzo."

He shrugs innocently. "Get what out of my head, Miss David?" Blink. Befuddled shake of the head. "I was merely referring to your _excellent_ drunken rendition of _Chicago_."

She rolls her eyes again, an action she feels she has repeated far too many times this evening. "One," she counters, "you know exactly what you were talking about. Two, I have never done any renditions of Chicago for you, drunken or otherwise. And three," she continues, pulling her hand from his and holding one finger to his lips to silence his retorts, "it is you who frequently decides to share your musical prowess while under influence."

He laughs then, and she pulls her finger away tingling. "Oh, David," he says. "Don't even pretend you don't-"

And that's when the shot rings out, they both tumble to the ground, and his blood splatters across her horrified face.

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A/N: Thoughts? Favourite lines? Shall I continue?

Let me know :).

(And Happy Australia Day!)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: My dog ate it.

New chapter :).

So let me know your views and fave lines. And I'm open to criticism, so drop me a line.

And, in a little bit of shameless self promotion- check out my other fic, Learning Under Pressure, and let me know what you think.

Enjoy.

**

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**

"Tony? Tony!" She's saying his name over and over, pushing her hands as hard as she can on the wound on his shoulder. She knows it's bad; she's had more than enough experience to know that, however she also knows he has a good chance of recovery, providing he gets medical attention soon.

Better in the shoulder than the heart.

Blood trickles out through her fingers. She looks down at the pained expression on his face. "Do you have your phone?" she asks, increasing the pressure.

He nods. "Yeah, front pocket of my jeans." He's speaking softly, but seems to be okay for now.

She tries to reach his pocket, but can't without pulling her hands from his shoulder. "Can you move your other arm?" she asks.

He nods again and lifts his arm slowly to show her.

"Good," she says. "I need you to hold your hand to your shoulder so I can get to your phone."

He doesn't say anything, just moves his hand to cover hers. She tries to ignore his icy skin as she slowly slips her hands out from under his.

The blood flow increases for a second, but he pushes harder, eliciting a soft gasp, and it seems to slow again. Not wasting a second, she moves to his pocket and pull out his phone. He mutters something, but she doesn't quite catch it.

"Hmm?" she asks, already dialling.

"Nothing," he says. "I just made really great crack about the proximity of your hands and my crot-"

"DiNozzo!"

"-ch, but I guess it's ruined now," he finishes, a ghost of a smile on his features.

She rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but knows that him joking around is a good sign.

The operator answers after a couple of rings. "911, what's your emergency?"

"Ah, hi," she says, somewhat hurriedly. She places the hand that isn't holding the phones back over the wound. "My name is Ziva David, I am an NCIS Agent. My partner, Anthony DiNozzo, has been shot. Left shoulder."

The operator jolts in activity. "Where are you? We'll send an ambulance."

Ziva rattles off the address.

"Okay, an ambulance is on the way. Is your partner conscious?"

"Yes."

"How much blood is he losing?"

She looks down at her partner; his forehead is clammy and his eyes are drooping. "A lot. How long will the ambulance be?" She's getting edgy.

"Five minutes. Just keep pressure on the-"

His eyes begin to close. She drops the phone and presses her other hand onto his shoulder. "Stay awake, Tony. If you fall asleep now I will kick your ass."

He lets out a weak chuckle. "You wouldn't be a ninja if you didn't."

She can hear the wailing of an ambulance in the distance. "Hold on now, Tony. The ambulance is coming." Her tone has a slight hysterical edge to it, so she takes a moment to calm herself before speaking again. "They are going to help you. And you will be just fine."

"Who are you reassuring, Ziva?" Tony asks, his voice soft and croaky. "Me... or you?"

She is saved from replying when the ambulance pulls up and suddenly everything around her is flurry of activity.

Her hand is in his and she can't, not she won't, let go. The men in the uniforms are talking to her and then yelling at her and she thinks she might be yelling back, but she isn't sure. Then they're asking if she's hurt and she isn't sure of that either, because this whole thing sure feels painful. She doesn't know at what point Gibbs turns up and Tony is gone and she can't remember when her hand left his, she just can't.

Gibbs spins her to face him as the ambulance flies away and tells her they need to go to the hospital too. He asks her if she is okay, but her mask is already in place so he'll never know. She says the usual, "I am fine," and turns, but he catches her arm in his and she sees the blood. The blood that is covering her hands and her body and her pretty, pretty dress. Her mask slips for a moment so she pushes it back into place, but Gibbs has seen the crack.

"Ziver..." he tries, but she just wrenches her arm from his.

Her eyes are all anger, but her face is blank when she says, "You gave us the all clear, Gibbs. You said it was safe to return. This is on you."

Then she turns again and walks away from him and this time he doesn't stop her.

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A/N: Thoughts? Writing tips? Favourite lines? Shall I keep going?

Let me know :).


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: "You were teleported back in time... and to Mars!"

This chapter is short, but necessary. As I said at the start, story is in eight part. This is part three. And it is short.

Anyways, enjoy. And for those who are wondering, there will be an update of my other story, Learning Under Pressure, today.

Review. :)

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The hospital walls are white and bright and oh, so, clean. It feels wrong. She leaves her car outside the front of emergency and stumbles in through the automatic doors. There is a scream, and then she is surrounded.

"Miss? Miss, are you okay?"

She gives the doctor a strange look and takes another step forward. He stops her. "Miss, where are you injured?"

"I am not-" She looks down and notices the blood on her dress and hands and probably her face. Then she starts to laugh. It feels strange and foreign to her ears. "That is not my-"

"Miss, you need to sit down. Where are you injured?" If the man is put off by her hysterical laughter he doesn't show it. She supposes he has probably seen it all.

"The blood is not mine," she forces out, still smiling. "It is Tony's." Then she is laughing again, because there is no way this man knows who Tony is. "I mean," she pushes out, through the laughter. "It is my partner's blood. My partner at NCIS."

Recognition dawns on the man's face. "The fed?" he relaxes slightly. "You are not injured?"

She shakes her head, still smiling. "Fit as a violin."

The man's forehead creases for a moment and then he speaks again. "I think you mean fiddle... Oh, never mind. We need to get you admitted."

"I told you, I am fine. I just need to see my Tony." She laughs again. "My partner, I mean."

"I believe you are in shock. Come with me, please." Then he puts a hand to her back. And she cracks.

Mossad instincts kick in and she lashes out, twisting his hand behind his back. Another person grabs her from behind and she elbows backward, then flicks around and punches another who is advancing on her. She is about to take down a fourth when there is a sharp pinch in her arm, her vision clouds, and it all goes dark.

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A/N: Good, bad, eh?Do you want more?

Review with your favourite lines! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: "Look! It's Princess Bubblegum's Rainicorn!"

Thank you to all who have been reviewing this and my other story, Learning Under Pressure. The response has been awesome.

Review. :)

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When she wakes she is in a crisp white bed dressed in an equally crisp blue hospital gown. Her skin has been scrubbed and her hair knotted back into a braid. She feels violated, which is stupid, but she doesn't know what else to think.

"Ziva?"

She knows that voice, but it is not one she wants to hear. She closes her eyes and hopes that when she opens then he will be gone, but knows it cannot happen that way.

"I want to explain this to you, Ziva," the voice continues, calm and calculated as always.

She finally opens her eyes and takes in her boss' appearance.

"How is Tony?" she asks, angry that she has to ask something of him.

"Out of surgery. Should be fine."

She gives a wry smile at his no nonsense attitude. "What do you want, Gibbs?"

He looks at her from across the room for a long moment, and then speaks quietly. "I was right to give the all clear."

She gives him a 'yeah right' look. "So I suppose Tony was shot by a magical fairy then?"

He doesn't seem amused. "Not a magical fairy, no," he says. "But not our suspects, the Williams, either."

She furrows her brow. "That does not make any sense."

"We were unlucky," Gibbs says. "We put you two together in that op because you needed to be the star couple at the ball, and then run off and make a scene so that we would be able to apprehend the Wilsons discreetly. It was a high pressure situation, and need to be diffused accordingly."

"I am aware of all this, Gibbs," Ziva says impatiently. "I was read in, too."

"Unfortunately," Gibbs continues, "what we didn't bargain for was that they would have backup. We underestimated them. Turns out, three of the waiters were working for them. They tapped into our networks and when we radioed to tell Tony the job was done they caught the message."

"And they took the shot," Ziva finishes.

Gibbs nods.

"How did we not catch this?" Ziva asks. "Surely there must have been something we could have-"

"No," Gibbs cuts in. "We couldn't have known."

Ziva sits up suddenly and tears out the IV in her arm.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs says, for the first time looking alarmed. "Ziva, stop."

"I am going to see him. After all, I was not injured. I am fine."

"You had a breakdown."

"I did not!" Ziva almost yells. "I just wanted to see Tony. Those doctors are incompetent fools."

"You attacked four hospital personnel," Gibbs reminds her and moves to stand in front of her.

She folds her arms over her chest. "They attacked me first."

"No, Ziva." A wry smile tugged at his lips. "They tried to subdue you."

"Tomatoe, potato," she says and waves her arm dismissively.

Gibbs doesn't bother correcting her. "You're not going, Ziva. He's not even awake yet."

"Does not matter," she says. "And you cannot stop me."

He levels with her. "I think I can."

It must be a funny sight, she suddenly thinks. Her against him.

He stares her down for a moment more before speaking, "Fine. We'll compromise."

She gives him a skeptical look. "What kind of compromise?"

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A/N: Good, bad, eh? Do you want more?

Review with your favourite lines! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: "My. Hat. Is. AWESOME!"

New chapter :).

So let me know your views and fave lines. And I'm open to criticism, so drop me a line.

Enjoy.

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The wheelchair bumps over another tile and her frown deepens. "This is not what I had in mind when I said I would compromise."

"Shut it, David," Gibbs said from behind her as he pushed the chair through the hallways.

"I do not appreciate being treated like an invalid," she hisses.

"I told you to shut up. The hospital wouldn't like it if they knew you were out of bed. Half of them wanted you handcuffed to the railing after your little rampage."

She presses her mouth into a thin line and does not say anything more. Before long, they reach the surgical wing.

"Visitor for Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Gibbs tells the nurse on duty.

"He's not awake yet," she tells him.

Gibbs gives a significant look toward Ziva, who is playing the part of injured, upset partner perfectly. The nurse looks over Ziva and her face softens.

"I'll take you to him," she says and walks around from behind the desk. "But you'll have to be very quiet."

Ziva just nods and Gibbs mutters a quiet, "Okay."

When they reach his room Gibbs stops at the door and turns to the nurse. "When will he wake?"

She gives a small shrug. "The anaesthesia should be wearing off so it should be fairly soon."

Gibbs nods, and pushes Ziva into the room. They don't speak as he pushes her to a spot right beside Tony's bed. He doesn't look injured, he could just be sleeping, she thinks. She is not scared by this, seeing him there. It does come as a shock to the system, however, to see him so vulnerable. She swallows her emotions and turns to Gibbs who, she is shocked to note, has not been watching Tony. He has been watching her.

"I would prefer if you did not stare at me, Gibbs," she says, turning her gaze back to Tony. "I know it is one of your favourite pastimes to stare at people, but I do not need it now."

She looks at him again and is not surprised to see that he is still watching her carefully. "Do you have something you want to say?"

He doesn't answer.

She huffs and leans back in her wheelchair, crossing her arms. In a movie this would be where she grabs her partner's hand and whispers things to him. But this is real life. And she is an assassin. She does not do grieving partner. It is not her style.

It is a few moments before she speaks. "What did it achieve?"

Gibbs seems surprised. "What?"

"Shooting him. Why did they do it? It did not help their cause."

Gibbs shrugged. "They did it because they could, I guess."

"That seems stupid. One shot. They could have left undetected, and yet, they chose to ruin it." Ziva seems agitated.

"They were obviously not highly trained. I also believe they had personal connections to the Wilsons. It was probably just heat of the moment revenge."

Ziva seems to accept this. "I have another question."

They do not notice Tony waking in the background. They are too engrossed in their conversation.

"Hmm?" Gibbs probes.

"Who were they going for- me or him?"

Gibbs looks down at her. "I doubt they had a specific target in mind."

"So it could have just as easily been me then?"

Gibbs is wary. "I suppose..."

"It should have been me," Ziva continues. "I would have preferred that."

"I wouldn't," a croaky voice cuts in from the bed.

"Tony!" Ziva says, and then lowers her voice. "Tony."

"That's my name," he says and looks around. "Water?"

Gibbs raises a hand. "I'll get it." He leaves the room and Tony and Ziva are left alone.

Ziva turns to Tony hesitantly. "How do you feel?" The question seems lame, but valid.

"Like I got shot." He cranes his neck up to look at down at his shoulder and is rewarded with a hiss of pain for his efforts.

Ziva stands and leans over him, pulling his gown down so he can get a look. There is nothing really to see though, just a large white pad.

"Any lasting damage?" he asks, looking up at her.

She pulls away. "I am not sure..."

It is then that he notices her attire. "Ziva, are you okay?"

She furrows her brow. "You were the one that was shot."

"You're in a hospital gown. And a wheelchair!" he adds, somewhat alarmed.

"Oh, it is nothing," Ziva says, once again cursing the hospital staff. "They just overreacted, that is all."

"Who overreacted? Are you injured?"

"Not at all," she says, purposely dodging his original question. "I am fine."

"Then why were you admitted?"

"Admitted?" She is stalling, pretending she doesn't know this word in the current context.

"To the hospital, Ziva."

She waves her hand dismissively. "It was just a precaution; you know how these people are. They just wanted to check me out, make sure I was okay."

He is sceptical, but lets the questioning die. She obviously has something she doesn't want to share. Yet.

Gibbs returns then with the glass of water. If he notices the tension in the room he doesn't comment on it. Tony takes a long sip and turns to Gibbs.

"So what's the news?" he asks. "Am I all good?"

Gibbs nods. "You're fine, DiNozzo. Wound was through and through. Easily repairable."

Tony is clearly relieved. "Excellent. No harm done then."

Ziva rolls her eyes. "Only you would get shot and say that."

Gibbs suppresses a smirk and turns to Ziva. "We should get you back to your room before they send out security."

Ziva sighs. "Yes, okay." Putting a hand over Tony's, she says, "Glad you are okay. See you tomorrow."

It is not intimate or sweet or touching, but it as close as they get.

She wheels herself out of the room and Gibbs makes to follow, but not before Tony calls his name. Gibbs stops in the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"She's okay, right?" Tony says.

Gibbs nods and smiles slightly. "Oh, she'll be fine."

"Good," Tony says, and closes his eyes. "That's good." He is almost asleep again when Gibbs says a soft goodbye and leaves the room to chase after Ziva.

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A/N: Thoughts? Writing tips? Favourite lines? More?

Let me know :).


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I heart mlia.

I want to thank everyone so far for their awesome support- you've been great! I would love to see the reviews continue, and as always, if you have any issues, or think there are problems let me know. I'm a keen writer, so I'm always us for criticism that will help me improve my writing. I only want to get better :).

Enjoy, and please leave a review if you want more. It keeps me going :).

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Tony sits alone in his apartment later that week watching one of his various James Bond movies. He is surprised by how quickly all of this has moved, and also by how strange everything has become. It feels like only yesterday that he was running after Ziva at that ball, and now it was a week later and he'd been shot, had surgery, spent a few days in hospital, and watched a handful of movies in his typical bed rest boredom.

He is surprised when Ziva knocks on his door that night; she has not seen him since that day in the hospital and he was starting to wonder if he'd done something wrong.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and he opens the door wider, allowing her access. The place is a mess, and she has to shove a pizza box off the couch in order to take a seat. He sits as well, and she nods toward his arm in a sling and still padded shoulder.

"How is the shoulder?" she asks politely.

"Alright," he says. "Lovin' the painkillers."

Her mind flicks back to the time when he had a broken nose and she grins at the memory. "I have no doubt that you would be."

He looks at her for a moment. Then, "Did I do something? Or say something?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, when I was bleeding everywhere and probably thought I was dying. I don't remember much and I was just wondering if I did or said anything to you that I might regret and that might be causing you to act this way." It comes out in a crazy rush, and at the look on her face he wishes he could take it back.

She shakes her head slightly and gives him a strange look. "Not that I can recall. You did make a few obscene comments, but nothing out of the ordinary."

He seems relieved. "Okay..."

"Why would you think that?" she asks. "What could you have said?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering, you know, since you've been so distant and all." He says it in a conversational manner, but his words hold real meaning.

"I have not been distant."

"You have too!" he fires back. "You haven't even seen me since the hospital."

"I am here now, am I not?" She seems agitated.

"Well it took you long enough. If it were you injured I would be there in a heartbeat!"

This was not how she had intended this to go. She had just wanted to see how he was and instead they were having a full blown argument.

"I-" she begins, but he cuts her off.

"And while we're on the topic of you being injured, you still haven't levelled with me about you being in a hospital gown. What was that all about? And don't say a check up, because there is no way they would keep you that long if there was nothing wrong!"

She stands suddenly, and begins to stumble away, tripping over a table in the process. "I, uh, have to go."

"What?" he says in disbelief. "You just got here! You can't get out of this that easily."

"This is not an excuse." She is at the door. "I really have to leave. I forgot there was something I had to do." Her hand is on the doorknob.

He stands too. "Stop."

"I cannot..." She pulls open the door.

The he is beside her, pushing it shut again. "What the hell is going on here?"

She sticks one foot in the door to prevent it from shutting the entire way. "I am sorry."

And before he knows it, she is gone; a pizza box on the floor, a faint whiff of jasmine, and a cold breeze from the still open door are the only reminders of her ever being there at all.

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A/N: So what did you think? Want more? Advice, criticism, good, bad, terrible? What were your favourite lines?

Let me know in a pretty little review. :) :)

Until next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Sorry?

So I guess you could say I've been busy. It's been a weird year or so punctuated by death, parental divorce, various other happenings and non happenings. So an apology for my absence is all I can really offer. I'm not promising steady updates on all my fics, but I'll try to get back into this. Like I said, it's been a weird year.

This is only short, and the next chapter will be the last- a lengthy resolution chapter that hopefully you guys will all enjoy.

Anyways, please enjoy. Drop me a line (review) and let me know what you think :) As always, I'm open to criticism and all that so let me know.

* * *

Normally they would dance around it. They would stare at each other with heavy gazes and look away and look back and look away again. They would brush in the hallways or he'd stand behind her as they watch the plasma and they'd feel that static leap in their chests and each wonder if the other had felt it too. Normally they'd go back to work and pretend like they hadn't just had an 'almost' moment, like neither of them felt the feelings they did.

But this time Tony would have none of it. He wouldn't let her run. He wouldn't let this fall apart. Instead, he opens the door of his apartment and throws it shut with a slam behind him and before he even knows what he's doing he's running down the stairs and calling her name.

"Ziva! What the hell?"

He gets no response and he increases his pace, ignoring the tug at his shoulder. Bullet wounds sure are a bitch.

When he gets outside the building it's raining, and he can't help but wryly think how fitting, and yet how cliche and annoying it is. He looks left and right and sees a huddled form retreating.

"Ziva!" he shouts, and the figure tenses, and pauses on the sidewalk. But she won't turn around. He takes that as his cue to close the gap.

When he reaches he he says her name again, but she won't even look at him. After a beat: "Come inside?"

She raises her head and he's shocked by the utterly lost look that she wears.

"Please," he pushes. He wants to reach out and touch her, reassure her, drag her inside, but he knows her reflexes all to well and holds back.

Finally, she nods.

"Your hair is wet," he says, and closes the door behind him. It's a silly thing to say, he realises. She's been standing in the rain. Of course her hair is wet.

When she looks at him, her gaze in steely and blank, and he wonders if he imagined the vulnerable, hopeless Ziva he saw just a few minutes ago. She reaches up to touch her hair, then looks down at her soaking clothes, the rapidly pooling puddle beneath her. Then, she utters one word in the silence.

"Shit."

She's not really one for poetry.

And Tony laughs. He really laughs. And then Ziva is laughing too. Because it's just all so ridiculous and built up and fraught with tension that could apparently only be cut with a single uttered profanity.

"What the hell, Ziva?" he says again, and his words are serious, even though he's laughing so hard he could cry.

She looks at him with tears in her eyes. Laughing tears? She looks at him and says that she doesn't know.

They stop laughing.

Outside, the wind howls.

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A/N: Favourite lines? Good? Bad? Awful? Let me know :) Thanks for reading.


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